


Maid.doc

by Lanzelotti



Category: Rockman X | Mega Man X
Genre: Characters Writing Fanfiction, Deliberately innacurate shout-outs to MMZ, Dom/sub, Forced Crossdressing, Hints of Self-cest, M/M, Maids, Masturbation, Metafiction, Soft bodies, Suffering Circuit strikes again, Zero Era is X's wank fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-01 09:00:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2767343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lanzelotti/pseuds/Lanzelotti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When X is bored and lonely, he writes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New document

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my beta reader MysteryMuse; without her help, this fic would be a complete ESL mess.

Working in a different Unit was really awful sometimes. Zero was deployed with Axl as his support gunner. X lay on his recharger alone, insomniac due to all his worrying.  

Official documents reported that their mission wasn’t a very dangerous one — at least it wasn’t a new uprising — but they were dispatched by themselves, without support, on a road in the middle of what was left of the Amazon Rainforest in Colombia. They were intercepting a convoy containing dead reploids for DNA resurrections, the kind of thing an A- or even a B-class could do, if not for the necessary infiltration expertise of those two S-Classes.

Rumor was that the HQ wanted some free Ride Chasers and Armors from those Mavericks, but X couldn’t have cared less about potential retrieved equipment. He just wanted his lovers brought back safely.

0500 and his basic energy charge was at 60%. That would do for garrison work. X got out of the recharger, trying to remember some pending work from the previous days to do before the day properly starts. Being the hands-on, dedicated and honestly kind of a workaholic commander he was, there was none. Maybe he could anticipate some stuff at the moment? Schedule, schedule… Oh, the requested supplies for the 17th would arrive in the early morning. Routine stuff, just checking the contents of the containers together with his Logistics Officer, then he'd be writing a report and done. The arrival would not depend on him, so there would be still two hours with nothing to do, very few people awake to talk, and a nagging fear that Zero and Axl could damn well have been kidnapped by then. That mission was taking too much time for such a simple one.

What if they got captured by a mad Maverick dictator that had a taste for torture and humiliation? What if they were forced to work as, X didn’t know, domestic servants on a mansion hidden in the forest or something like that? Nobody, absolutely nobody but X could order them to follow demeaning orders!

But wait — a mansion in the middle of nowhere would work as a nice scenario. A really old one from the twentieth century or at least a mansion which looked like one would be even better. It would need some old-fashioned uniforms, too, to set the atmosphere.

X opened his word processor, carelessly writing some prompts:

  *          _Spanky maids;_
  *          _Old-looking mansion in the middle of nowhere;_
  *          _Zero and Axl got captured by mad dictator X. Scrap that! Only Zero captured, Axl is already his paid servant. Zero is a slave. We must always respect our hierarchy;_
  *          _Corporal punishment for the smallest of the offences._



Creating a story would keep him occupied. He wrote more world building notes: Zero losing his memory and being part of a failing Resistance movement, X himself — no! X from the story! — getting cynical and world-weary, justifying his deeds with a “this is the way things are done” mindset.

Or maybe Story X wasn’t even him, but an evil Maverick duplicate? X would definitely not write himself as outwardly cruel and bloodthirsty, though. His self-insert would be soft-spoken, polite, just like him, but even more of a sadist. And he had to be well-dressed. One couldn’t write a vintage-styled discipline story without the fancy clothes. In this case, a soft body — oh, how X loved his brand-new soft body — was a necessity.

But how he would justify it?

Ah, that was simple. It would be set in the future!

How he would start it, though? Would he write a prologue, fleshing out all the world and political situation? Or the story would start with the misadventures of Slave Maid Zero? So many options, all of them listed randomly at first, with attached notes, then a search for relevant pictures and their respective links, then questions, then instructions to “go to bullet point #5” after the questions. Soon his document became a mess. That wouldn’t do.

By opening a new document and pasting the results of his brainstorming, X did his best to put some order into his outline. He numbered the items, made use of indentations, rewrote some stuff and gave decent descriptions to the picture links. In the end he didn’t have a chapter or even a prologue, but got a decent algorithm.

0510\. Such were the wonders of a Reploid mind; he could do in minutes what a human would have taken hours to do. He could have started writing immediately, but first he had to check something. He couldn’t write about kidnappings and mad dictators and humiliating maid uniforms if his lovers had been actually captured. That would have been just wrong! Problematic! He touched his earcone, opening a channel with 5th Communications. He needed to be assured everything was OK before he began to write. ~~~~

“Navigators, this is X. Situation on Colombia?”

“This is Palette. Ten of thirty targets retired. Enemy Mechaniloid support is light, not dealing significant damage. The containers with the dead reploids are marked for beam-out in the next fifteen minutes for analysis from R&D.”

“Understood. Situation on Zero and Axl?”

“Minor armor damage. They captured two modified ‘Devil Bear’ Ride Armors and are currently using them. They’re fine!”

“Right. Reinforcements?”

“No readings from enemy lines. As for our side, no need for more Hunters on call. Don’t worry, X.”

“That’s enough. Thanks.”

Relieved, X closed his commlink and opened his word processor again. Even with the algorithm, he'd forgotten to think of a title but this would come later. He began his new document:

***

ZERO, THE NAUGHTIEST MAID (working title)

Written by X

_I – Captive_

The fortress crumbling, his systems on safe mode, his body damaged: Zero didn’t understand what happened. Is that what “losing” meant? But then, he barely understood anything after waking up in that world. A wasteland for falsely accused low-grade Reploids, a paradise for humans and the absolute best of the Reploid race, it seemed to be. His few memories involved his name, a Resistance movement, and the leader of that twisted society, a blue-clad warrior called X.

X… such a familiar name, but why so? Why was this man acting as a tyrant? Somehow Zero knew this wasn’t right. Deep down, Zero knew X was a good man and this entire situation had to be due to a misunderstanding. Or maybe it was just another nightmare. It did not make sense!

The last clear thing Zero remembered was feeling hands carrying him somewhere. His optics had been disabled, his processes terminated one by one. Where was he now? Was X holding him? 

For a while, there was only darkness until Zero heard a voice he thought was familiar.

“It was a good fight, Zero. I’m glad to see you are still in great shape after all these years, but to realize you got awakened by a criminal group makes me unhappy.”

Zero’s systems started running normally again, diagnostic tools assuring him he was undamaged. His senses returned one by one; auditory sensors were first and yes, it was X’s voice. Soon Zero’s optics came online again, showing him he was inside a recharging capsule in a small room containing an end table, a chest of drawers, a chair, and a desk. X was right in front of him, unarmored, wearing a midnight blue three-piece suit and a pair of glasses that did not made him look vulnerable at all, despite his short stature and slight build. His hair was unusually slicked back, giving an impression of absolute power that Zero found, despite his amnesia and confusion, very enticing.

Zero regained movement, sitting on the capsule and looking down: his body was completely repaired, but his armor was gone, leaving him only with his black under-suit, which clung to his muscled body like a second skin. He felt the cold and damp air of the room, but no pain at all.

 “You’ve been manipulated by those Maverick scum. They took advantage of your lack of memories to make you believe you were fighting for a good cause. The truth is that those people refuse to follow the law and want to destroy this place that I fought for years to build,” said X, who fiddled with the lapels of his suit jacket as he spoke, aware of the looks of his captive: the loose, long hair all spread between his body and the capsule; the angelic face with brilliant eyes, high cheekbones, luscious rosy lips and a delicate jaw; his strong body that proved otherwise, with his broad swordsman shoulders and toned pectorals with erect nipples from the cold.

Gorgeous, as X always knew; tempting, even. But trying to relieve his sudden urges at that moment would ruin his plans.

Zero jumped off the recharger, grabbed X’s azure silk tie with one hand and his neck with the other.  Even without weapons or armor, Zero was capable of killing. “What do you want?”

X did not offer resistance, maintaining his tone of voice and calm demeanor, despite his breathing getting noticeably heavier. “Another chance,” he said, putting his hands on Zero’s on a firm, but not forceful grip, as if subtly ordering Zero to set him free, “since you are innocent. You need no retirement, just a little bit of time, discipline and some chores to learn how this world works. You’ll be free from making choices and taking on heavy responsibilities serving under me.”

Zero increased the force of his hold. “Like hell I would be your slave. Give me back my armor, let me go and maybe, maybe, I’ll leave you alive. No promises about the survival of your little kingdom, though.”

“Zero,” said X, dauntless, pretending there was no pain on his neck, “It’s this or erasing all your memories, including your name and fighting experience. While you were being repaired, I asked my staff to put a chip in the nape of your neck. Touch it. It’s there.”

Zero’s hand released the tie, and he found a little round — at least it felt round — receptor in the neck, as X had said. The device overrode his security directives, giving it total control over his memory storage. He tried to uninstall the driver or at least delete the files manually, without success. His system warned him, “Access denied. You need permission from the administrator to perform this action.”

 “See? I promise I’ll take it off if you’re good.”

His body wasn’t his anymore, Zero realized. While he hardly could consider following orders to sabotage Neo Arcadia as being in control of his life, the fact that someone had tampered with his body triggered a deep rage for unclear reasons — something from his past perhaps — but what past? It didn’t matter. It was personal now.

He jumped against X’s body, throwing him to the ground, his left hand still choking his opponent, the right one punching X’s face repeatedly.

***

_It wasn’t meant to end like this, damn!_ X shook himself out of his writing. Even though there was Evil X, he was writing porn, not horror. Threatening to erase Zero's memories to convert him into the perfect maid was too much. It made total sense, it was coherent, but it was disgusting. X remembered the Fifth and Sixth Uprisings a bit too well to allow himself to continue writing this awful, problematic and yes, triggering, piece of fiction. Honestly, he wondered how he was capable of writing the last paragraphs. Dammit, being a dom was one thing, being a sadistic abuser was something completely different!

Ugh, he thought, this is what happens when I outline only parts of the story instead of the whole. Now the algorithm had ended in the worst way possible and he needed to rewrite. It would cost realism, but he needed to change the chapter to not turn it into a complete creep-fest. If he continued without changing, the fight would continue, Zero would win, and the world was saved. The End.

Okay, so… Zero needed a decent motivation to work as a maid. Maybe Evil X could unlock his old memories in an easy way? The recollections would be very traumatic, though, so methods for a gradual unlocking had to be considered. Let Zero read history books? Talk to him about his past? Reenact scenes?

No, better! Corporal punishment would slowly remind Zero of his happy times as a sub. Then X could write Story X as still holding some feelings for Zero instead of just pure manipulation.

It would still be fucked up. But at least it wouldn’t be an instant turn-off; it would be the delicious kind of fucked up that could be role-played.

_Wait, since when was the story meant to be role-played?_

Oh, well - since that exact moment, X decided. It would be fun to play it out if they got enough free time with no deployments for a while.

But these thoughts still didn’t solve his problem. He had figured out that spanking could give Zero happy flashbacks and make a decent story arc, but writing Zero as a prisoner was still a tough challenge.

X tried again:

***

“ _[…]_ No promises about the survival of your little kingdom, though.”

“Zero,” said X, dauntless, pretending there was no pain on his neck, “Let’s make a deal: I’ll stop the retiring of Reploids guilty of smaller crimes and the production of my Pantheons for one year if you work under me for a month.”

“Bullshit.”

“All right. I’ll stop it indefinitely and will try solving this energy crisis by slower methods. But that’s six months of servitude for you.”

Zero slowly took his hands away from X’s neck and feigned a resigned expression, giving his face an almost serene look. He slowly got up, pretending it was all right and he was backing off, quickly jumping and pinning X against the nearest wall.

“Set the Resistance free and give me back my stuff.”

“Are you refusing?” X said, taken by surprise, his breath quickening, “Then I have no chance but to retire you. Please, Zero. This is for your own good. You were quite the obedient man in the past, working here will help you remember!”

X looked uncertain; his eyes pleaded through foggy glasses and his neat hair was starting to become disheveled from being thrown around by Zero. Something about the look in his face triggered Zero's memory; they'd played games like this before in the past. Rewards for obedience.

So that meant that X was needy enough for a playmate? Would put his land in danger for some games? Well, he could be lying, but Zero was intrigued enough to want to give his ridiculous demand a try.

“Six months, then. And you’ll do what you promised plus freeing the rebels; also, returning my stuff. I won’t use it if you show me that you’re honoring your part of the deal.”

“Yes. Thank you, Zero. I promise you will love working here.”

***

This was, frankly, ridiculous, X thought. But it was the best he could write at the moment. And what was wrong with letting the story be a little silly? X could rewrite later, if he wanted.

At least Evil X wasn’t acting like Sigma, of all things.

Now X could start the good stuff.


	2. Spellcheck

Soon after Zero had accepted X's proposal, a skinny, red-haired young man in livery entered Zero’s new quarters. His name was Axl. He introduced himself as the butler, and came bringing a suitcase.

“So, you’re the new chambermaid, right? Master X told me your name is Zero and he wants you to get started working right away, so let’s be quick”, said Axl, unloading the suitcase on the desk.  He showed Zero a small notebook, some pens, changes of underwear, and uniforms. “Look at this, man, it’s yours now.”

And so Zero did. His uniform was done in a vintage style, soft to the touch — possibly made from natural fibers. The dress had long sleeves and a full skirt that reached the calf; the white apron had frills. His new shoes looked like they were made of leather, not a lightweight metallic alloy. The headdress consisted only of a headband with some lace attached, designed to keep the hair away from the face. Most importantly, the dress was blue, making it clear that Zero was X’s property from then on.

That was luxurious, ostentatious even; it was obvious proof that X could afford to make his servants wear better clothes than the rest of the general population.

Not wanting to waste time, Zero started to put the dress over his under-suit, only to feel his hair being tugged by Axl.

“Uh-uh! Not part of the uniform, man! The underwear is mandatory.” Axl pointed to the clothing pile again, making Zero notice white pieces of satin — knickers and a bra, sure, but also stockings and a girdle with suspenders. It seemed that the place was ruled by perverts. “Look, I should send you to X right now for breaking this rule, but since you didn’t even read your punishment book, I’ll let this one pass. Just this time, okay?” he said, a big grin forming on his face, his green eyes brightening, “But now you should strip!”

“What if I don’t?”

“Ooh, the new maid is shy!” Instead of tugging his hair again, Axl just took the dress from his arms, swinging it playfully in front of Zero’s face. “Yeah, see, this is how it works:  I write a report in your punishment book and you get sent to X. He'll definitely spank you and maybe you'll be punished by being ordered to walk around the house naked for a while.” Axl chuckled. “Anyway! You’ll need help with your new underwear. Go on, strip.”

Zero could not see how getting naked would be a punishment. That would be an understandable problem on the field, but it would be about the same as going into a battle without armor. As tortures went, being forced to disrobe by an enemy was on the lower scale of humiliations. But in a safe location such as X's house, though? Getting naked would be a reward after wearing that uniform.

But the first idiot who tried to grope him would feel his fist.

So Zero took his time undressing himself, not caring about Axl watching. The zipper on the high collar was almost invisible, and, due to the tightness of the fabric, it needed to be opened quite slowly. He revealed his neck, followed by glimpses of the tan skin of his chest with its hard, rosy nipples; his narrow waist and hard, defined abdomen, stopping the zipper there to free his muscular arms of the black covering. And judging by the looks Axl was giving him, with his naughty smile and red cheeks, he was enjoying the view.

So much for giving eye candy to horny teenaged butlers, Zero thought. Unzipping his suit to the end, Zero peeled it off from his toned, long legs, his hairless pelvis exposed. Without its insulation, he felt a bit more of the cold, shivering for a few seconds, but his body quickly got used to it. After shaking his head a little, feeling his long hair brushing against his skin, he threw the under-suit to Axl with a surge of impatience. “Fine, X,” he thought,” I'll play along with this stupid game of yours.”

“Until I get tired of it, anyway.”

***

Why should he write amnesiac Zero? X wondered as he wrote. Why suddenly use Axl, instead of maintaining X in the room? That setup made writing a slow, sensuous, passionate stripping scene, full of Zero feeling himself up and walking closer and closer to him— all right, closer and closer to Story Axl — impossible.

Damn, X wanted Zero in front of him and stripping immediately. Axl, Zero, retire those Mavericks already, X huffed inside his head. Hurry up and get back here so we can get some hot sex in before supply checking! Don't waste my time!

0530\. Time was passing, yes, but not as fast as X thought.

He could watch some videos from his and Zero’s personal stash, for reference. Maybe even while masturbating a bit, also for reference — he needed to be able to describe the exact sensations for a future scene. For that, recent experience would be of utmost importance. Relying on memory of past events and idealizing them with florid language would clash with the tone of the story!

 _That was it!_ X headed to the next teleporter capsule, selecting the option of the Sky Room on its HUD. Once there, he remotely activated the media center, frantically searching for some nice videos of Zero getting naked. _Write what you know._

Playlist built, X threw off his helmet and gloves, followed by all of his upper body armor, X-Buster included. It took a little bit to take off his pelvic armor without removing his boots, but it wasn’t that hard — lateral openings existed for a reason. Lying down on the glass floor, unzipping his blue under-suit until he was half naked, he was ready to do his "research".

He lay in the dark, looking at the video projected on the ceiling: Zero hadn't been able to wait. He couldn't even be bothered to remove his boots, gauntlets or helmet. He didn't even care that X caught him at it. He kept going, after acknowledging X being there, but X had taken control of the scene. He'd commanded his lover to stop, then to start doing it again, but to do it correctly. He told Zero to moan and call out names, and remove everything so that not even an inch of fabric or metal lay against his skin.

Oh, that absolutely would work for a future punishment. With some extra toys, perhaps? Or maybe only the verbal command would be enough, hmm. X wasn’t sure; he needed to put that to practice.

X emulated Zero’s movements: first by taking off the rest of his armor, touching his exposed shoulders and chest with just his fingertips, then standing up. X began obeying his own verbal orders from the video, pretending the X in the video was inspecting his body “You may now touch yourself. Gently, please. Too harsh or fast, you’ll sleep alone for a long time. I want to watch you slowly losing control, Zero,” the X on the video said.

“Yes, Master X,” the actual X replied to the video, a bit surprised about how his voice sounded completely different from the usual voice he used while giving orders to the 17th. Deeper and slower, words carefully enunciated. Syrupy enough to make someone question if he was ordering or begging, just enough to let it show he was as needy as his partners.

He lay back down on the floor again, resuming his feather-light touches, eventually setting one of his hands on a nipple, pinching it to hardness. The other hand went down along his waist and hips to glide between his legs, his fingers feeling the silkiness of his inner thighs. He teased himself, his core pulsing stronger.

X tried to take note of the most appropriate adjectives for what he was exactly feeling. But no matter what the intensifier, it was good being undressed and oh-so-vulnerable atop a glass floor, his left hand just ghosting above his hardening cock, his fingers gently pressing his slit. Slow, lazy, just as ordered.

His eyes were closed; X didn’t care about imitating Zero anymore, just about following his own orders, imagining himself in the sub’s place. It felt weird and troublingly hot to act all submissive to a homemade porn video for research purposes— X knew he had to stop lying to himself; there were no new words on his document!

“Very well, Zero. Keep going and I’ll reward you later,” the video X said.

X had not quickened his pace, but his caresses became more intense. He firmly held his shaft, going up and down with his hand, fantasizing about the grip being the other X giving him a handjob. His body started to get warm, weightless; the feelings of shame about subbing to himself vanished as sounds trickled out of his mouth — it had been a while since the last time X was quite vocal during sex, but it was the first time he was moaning his own name.

It made total sense, actually. X knew all of his own weaknesses, his own fantasies, all the steps to make him yearn to be completely exposed and willing to be touched — even penetrated!

He lifted his legs up, licking his fingers at the same time. His own entrance was very tight, never properly used, making it a little hard to put one finger inside. Still, after playing around the area a little, X managed it just fine. It felt weird at first but not painful, and he soon learned to touch his inner walls. Curling his finger sent waves and waves of pleasure through him. His body started to tremble, his cheeks reddened, and his other hand still firmly tugged on his cock, with an even stronger hold, its movements faster. X's moans quickly turned into shouts.

Well, so Zero could be punished in this way? But it felt way more like a reward and… No excuses! Forget the damn story; X realized that subbing to himself was awesome!  

Oh, what would be the look on the face of his Master to watch X fingering himself, pre-come leaking, wishing for more? What would be the look on anyone’s face to see the oh-so-heroic X in a submissive state, armor and dignity shed, Hunter duties forgotten, just wanting to be properly _fucked_?

That was silly, thought X; nobody could see him at the moment. The whole thing would be his little secret. Nobody would know. It wasn't as if there were hidden cameras in the Sky Room or anything.

Still, imagining all those scenarios made X really wish for his newborn fantasy to become reality. Something could be done, but…how?

Where did he put all his old weapons data? X was sure one of them could work as a temporary copy. Maybe Soul Body, a clone made of hard light? But he didn’t want to stop while his body was deliciously burning, so close to orgasm, needing just a little bit more…

“Sorry, Zero. Got another call. Need to represent the 17th for another meeting. Stop right now and do nothing until I return, or there will be no sex tonight!” the video X spoke again.

That damned line reminded him that he could be requested at any moment. What if there were innumerous calls at the Base that he'd already missed? What if they forced him to teleport in his current state?

“Better to be safe”, thought X, sending an abort signal to his erection, while his core sent him flashback after flashback of things going awry due to X’s carelessness and lack of thought: people could be dying, the HQ could get destroyed and he would not know that because he was alone on his fancy room wanking to homemade porn without the data stream coming from his helmet. Damn it, that little thing was irresponsible and improper of a commissioned officer. He should have found a more appropriate way to waste time instead of acting like a foolish human teenager getting all hot and bothered for imagining his crush naked. All right, Zero wasn’t just a crush, but it was still immature.

At least writing porn was more productive than consuming it. And he needed to rewrite that silly “convincing Zero to become a hostage” scene anyway. If Axl was there, he could have easily gotten his advice, but alas, X was alone. An external opinion was still necessary, though.

0550\. Maybe Alia could have something to say? Not that he would tell her that he was writing BDSM erotica featuring his boyfriends and himself, of course not, but he could omit that little detail.

Back in the HQ and decently armored, X sent her a message by radio asking if she was free. In seconds she responded:

[Yes. I’m in the 5th Common, where are you?]

[Don’t worry, I’ll come to you.]

[But why the call, X?]

[I’m worried about something.]

[Color me surprised, X.]

[BUT IT’S SERIOUS— all right, it’s not. Need to talk, though.]

Alia's location was a bit far away from where X was, but it wasn't a problem — Alia didn't sound like she was busy. Taking an elevator, X tried to rehearse his question in advance so he talk to her without making a fool of himself. If he didn't mention “fiction”, “speculating” or “enslaved Zero” he probably would be fine. Or so he hoped.

Alia sat on a couch in the 5th's common room, looking away from the door and sitting quietly. ~~~~

“Busy now?”

“Oh, no, sorry, X. I was reading some reports from R&D about restoring corrupted control chips while waiting.”

“Well, if you want me to go—“

 "No problem, do talk about what’s bothering you so much.”

“It’s about Zero and Axl, y’know. What if they get captured, and all that.”

“Then you’ll get dispatched, X.”

That was the obvious answer. And judging by the way Alia turned her head away from him after answering; she was none too pleased about her reading being interrupted by stupid questions.

X could do better!

“Well, of course. But what if they’re kept hostage, I mean, Zero prefers to kill himself to be captured, I know, but… What might make him stop and obey a captor for a time? And by ‘time’, I mean for months.”

“How would I know?” Alia said, her hand on one of her earcones, mouth agape, looking at X like his storage drives were damaged. “You're the boyfriend. Ask him when he returns. Seriously, if he and Axl got in trouble, you would hear about it.”

“Yeah, makes sense.” Lowering his head and putting his hand on his helmet crystal, X tried to clear his mind of the intrusive thoughts about acting embarrassingly like a rookie. “But,” _an excuse, X, give a goddamned excuse,_ “It's an exercise for my Unit. I need to give them something different. Make them think outside the box, different strategies for dealing with hostage situations and imprisonments if one of us is captured.”

 “Oh, that explains it.” She nodded her head, smirking. Her friend did not need to visit the medbay to run a data corruption check after all, but apparently he'd never figured out how to hide his intentions. Alia decided she wouldn't press the question, although making X admit he had a kink for Hostage Zero would be quite funny. “Maybe you got captured first and got a plan to escape?" she offered, "You know, minimal bloodshed, lots of human hostages, any excuses you have. You’re telling him your plan by radio, and he needs to go along with it. I don't think it would take months, though.”

That made lots of sense, and it was actually workable on text. X put a note on his document, eager to rewrite a good chunk of the beginning, adding a plan to write Good Guy X as another maid sending secret messages to Zero. This would mean that Zero would know Evil X was a fake, but the premise would not be drastically altered. Now the scenario could go on. Plausible motives, maybe a plan or two to free Good X and destroy that mansion - the two working as a team. The maid thing would be useful to learn the layout of the house, one room at a time, if they couldn't get a blueprint file. Algorithm again? To help with the new plot, of course.

Plot?

“Thanks, Alia, that helps me a lot!” X said, getting out of the room quickly, not giving her time to say goodbye. The story wasn’t meant to have a serious plot! Although X thought an ending with the mansion blown up, Zero with his memories restored, Axl without his brainwashing and Good X rescued, the trio making out naked on a Ride Chaser or a car or something in movement across the sunset to the middle of nowhere would be quite awesome. But yeah, too much story, not enough porn.

And it would be a pity to destroy a nice mansion with historical architecture.

[Oh, X? Learn to lie better.] Alia sent, snickering.

Shit, he'd acted like a dork in front of her, as always. At least she was nice enough to not expose him to her Unit. The last thing X wanted at that moment were tons of new gossip threads on the Navi boards or worse, the anon-boxes. He could even see the thread title: “X CAN’T WORK WITHOUT A GOOD DICKING FROM ZERO – 5TH NAVIGATION GOT THIS FIRST”.

[Alia, really, I don’t want to saddle you with my relationship stuff…]

[X, it’s OK. I’m not a prude. You can talk to me about your sex role play stuff or whatever. It was kind of cute, I admit. Zero will probably like the… accuracy of the scenario.]

[Well, if it looked too ridiculous it would ruin the mood, you know.]

[He doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who would care, but whatever floats your boat, X. Or his.]

Ah, but she knew nothing about Zero’s pickiness about their scenarios. While X did not worry about the entire HQ knowing about his relationship with Zero and Axl, he preferred that this little story would not escape the confines of his private rooms or the memory banks of the involved parties, since it was meant to be a little gift. Can’t ruin the surprise! ~~~~

As the DNA lock granted him access to the S-Class Common, X opened the document again, getting himself comfortable in the group's big black couch. No porn to watch this time, though.

[Good luck with your wanking, though. I also wish for Zero and Axl to return soon.] Alia teased him.

_Aw, Alia, come on! Close the channel already!_

[Yeah, than—]

X's connection was interrupted by a high-priority call from Axl. Sound only.

“X, you got a sec? Listen!”

Explosions were clearly audible on the background. No time for silly writing at the moment. X left his place and went straight to the teleporting capsules, sending a signal to Palette to locate the two hunters and start beam-out preparations. Since Axl, the one who still thought about acting like a “badass hero” made the call; it meant Zero was in danger, probably injured. Or captured. Shit.

“Copy, heading for the teleporters. What about you? Zero? The mission?”

No time to feel guilty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm marking this one complete at two chapters. As many readers know, my beta left fandom and it kind of broke my will to keep writing. However, what I planned for the next chapters wasn't as funny or original as the first two, and the end of Chapter 2 works as a nice fic ending, even if a bit open.
> 
> I also noticed a steady flow of kudos even years after I posted this fic. Thanks for reading and leaving tokens of appreciation!
> 
> p.s. my twitter and tumblr are "deniisu" for contact, if interested.


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